


A Candlenights' Miracle

by SandrC



Series: Balance My Deeds With My Misdeeds [41]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sorry Not Sorry, good luck finding out what it is, i regret only one line in this, nice, there are sixty nine pans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 04:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15744651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandrC/pseuds/SandrC
Summary: It's a Pan-religious, Pan-sexual, personal Pan holiday for Merle this year! And they're all vying for his affection. All of them. There are so many, guys. And Merle gets them all.(Or: inspired by a Japhers comic, I make Merle fuck all the Pan. There are 69 because fuck number. Not really an orgy, but yeah. Also they're doing it to prove a point.)





	A Candlenights' Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> Again, sorry Clint.
> 
> And forgive person who inspired this: I won't name you unless you want to be named.
> 
> Gee McElroy, how come your dad gets ALL the boyfriends?!
> 
> (I regret nothing and everything all at once.)

After the Story and song, those of the IPRE and those of the BOB all took some time to get their shit in gear. It was quite a clusterfuck for about a year, but it was a needed break. For Merle, that year was spent reforging his platonic relationship with his ex-wife and setting down roots in Bottlenose Cove. And also communing with Pan.

 _All_ of them.

See, it's kinda a strange thing when you're a religious man whose traveled many many _many **many**_ dimensions and _each_ one had your god there. Coz that meant that every system that had an Ethereal Plane had a Pan. And, for anyone who kept track (Lucretia mostly) that was about 69 different Pans including the one on Tûsun and on this, their final system of Faerûn.

(While neither Taako nor Lup would admit it, they were _kinda_ jealous that the old fuck managed to net so many lays but also sixty- _fucking_ -nine of them. Taako especially, who boned down on every planar system that had sapient life and only hit about fifty. Lucretia, who kept a tally of everyone's visits to the bone zone, just smiled wisely and said " _nice_ ". Merle hadn't boned any of his Pans, just accumulated their adoration through his ceaseless worship and she fucking knew it. That didn't keep her from being a shit, though.)

As the weeks became months and the world slowly rebuilt itself from the ground up, Merle found that casual prayer became easier than kneeling first. He also found that his soulwood hand gave the _best_ damn handjobs he'd _ever_ had.

As Candlenights came closer and closer, the IPRE began making their plans to meet up, get drunk, get high, and gift swap. Merle generously offered to host the whole shindig—no one argued otherwise, as he had the biggest house—and _so_ , as is the host's job, he was spending the pre-party weeks cleaning up. During a long period of sweeping and dusting, he decided that he needed a break and reclined on his bed with a heavy sigh.

" _Damn_ ," he sighed, looking about at the bullshit pile of dust and plant detritus he'd swept up. "Busy busy busy..." Weary, his old bones took kindly to the sort-of-nap and he soon drifted off.

* * *

Merle woke to the sound of arguing.

"I'd hardly say you're his _favorite_. If anything, _I'm_ his favorite!"

"For _what,_  booze? The only times he called on you was to make the shit-riddled water into wine you _lush_!"

"Better that than the months he spent burnt and vomiting where _you_ come from!"

"He made his first church for _me_!"

"And _died_ in it. Good job."

"The planes were cut off by then. _You_ know as well as I do that nothing could be done!"

"And yet he let _me_ jack him off pretty frequently so guess who's got it better?"

Okay now _that_ was interesting. Merle, with all the sly, canny nature he could roll, cracked one eye open to see who was bothering him. He was greeted with a roomful of Pans. _All_ sixty-nine of them. All arguing.

(His stealth roll was _garbage_ , as Merle had the dexterity modifier of a drunk ooze, and, as such, consequences will be had later.)

A stout Pan with a bald spot and trim goatee jammed a chubby finger in the nose of a more goat-like Pan. "Remember that year he got an STI from following Lup into a brothel and every time he took a piss it burned? That's on _you_!"

The goat-like Pan laughed, "I _distinctly_ remember that being more your fault, isn't it? That's the year _directly_ after yours and, _quite_ frankly, after the bacchanalian binge he went on, of _course_ he'd forget restraint!"

Another Pan, this one effeminately beautiful, with curly hair and upwards-jutting horns, held his hands out in a placating gesture. "We shouldn't _argue_ though! 'Tis _Candlenights_ , the reason for the season! Instead we should bequeath him a gift from us all. It's only by Morpheus' providence that we could even gather here, so let's not waste it bickering!"

A scruffy Pan pointed a hoof-tipped finger at the effeminate Pan, "Shut up. _You_ got him hooked on Aasamir Dust for a year. Fuck _right_ and _off_."

It was at _this_ time that Merle snorted in laughter and all of the Pans noticed he was awake. "Fuck then," Merle laughed. "Y'all fighting over pretty lil me?"

" _Merle_ ," the Pan of Faerûn said, kneeling to be face-to-face with him, "we just wonder which of us is your favorite."

" _Obviously_ ," a Pan that Merle recognized as the one from Tûsun, "it's me. The _OG_ Pan. Don't even front."

"I disagree," a sun-bleached Pan with salt-crusted hair replied. "He loved my year, _didn't_ you?"

"There was nothing to do," the stout Pan responded crossly, "and he was _sick_ , need I remind you."

" _Fellas_. Just calm down." Merle sat up and looked out on the throng of Pans. A very dirty idea came forth and he figured, well, fuck it. "I think I know how to settle this once and for all."

Sixty-nine Pans looked at him at once. He explained.

* * *

Few people get to say they met their god, let alone sixty-nine versions of him. Even _less_ get to say they got fucked by them. _All_ of them. _One_ by _one_.

See, Merle was inherently a dwarf who knew what he wanted. And what he wanted was that sweet Pan dick. So he did. In the order he met them.

Tûsun Pan was _smart_. He had, after all, been around for the teenage Merle, so he knew _every_ dirty secret fantasy the dwarf had ever had. He sucked Merle off while one hand fingered his ass, hitting Merle's prostate at the same time his other hand grabbed ahold of Merle's nuts and squeezed. The yell Merle let out when he came all in that Pan's beard was _amazing_.

A strangely human Pan was from Cycle One, so he went next, rutting Merle aggressively. As this Pan came, his cum dribbling between Merle's cheeks and frosting his Kenny Chesney tattoo, he bit down on Merle's ear and finished jerking him. The orgasm was mixed with blood but a little pain during sex never killed anyone, _right_?

The stout Pan was seven fucks after, making an impression that even the Pan that deepthroated Merle couldn't top. He plucked a flower from his hair and chewed it up. Then he grabbed Merle by the beard and made out with him, using his tongue to push the paste into Merle's mouth. When he pulled back, the stout Pan watched as the aphrodisiac took hold and Merle melted at his touch. The sex was raw and aninmalistic with a bit of breathplay thrown in.

The goat-like Pan sixty-nined him and the way that his tongue could somehow sound him in one moment and wrap around the length of his shaft the next was _pure magic_.

Ten Pans later, beach Pan used his stiff hair as a cloth between his hands and Merle's dick as he ate out his ass and jerked him off at the same time. The salt only stung a little bit and the texture was as amazing as the way this Pan hit every sweet spot with his tongue.

The effeminate Pan was from a year where gender was what you wanted, and gave the best double-pegging Merle ever thought was possible. He felt _so_ full.

One by one, _each_ Pan made their case by fucking Merle within an inch of death and then using their holy magic to speed his refractory period up so they next one could fuck him. In the end, Faerûn Pan gave it his all.

Slow, _sensual_ , using plant magic to summon tendrils that seemed so familiar, Faerûn Pan spitroasted Merle with the phallic plants. His body was dusted with pollen jism and his chest was heaving as the tendrils withdrew, Faerûn Pan sure he had made his point.

" _So_?" Tûsun Pan asked. The congregation of Pans stared at Merle with longing bedroom eyes and starry square pupils.

"Man cannot just _choose_ his favorite god," Merle said with all the pompous clerical air he could muster. "You are _all_ my Pan, after all." Sweat trickled down his brow.

They didn't buy it.

"You have to pick one! _All_ of us means _none_ of us!"

"This is a cop out and you _know_ it!"

"You're _better_ than this, Merle."

Before the frantic gods could reach him, Merle slapped himself awake, covered in his own cum and _super_ satisfied.

Knock one off his bucket list.

(Later, during drunken bragging to his family, Lucretia laughed and high-fived him. Then she stood to collect a decades long bet, satisfied as well. And if him getting laid meant that Taako and Dav were down a few hundred gold then...good for her.)

(And if that night he was blueballed by Faerûn Pan? A price to pay.)

(He really _didn't_ have a favorite anyway. They all were great in their own way. And they all fucked like _champions_.)


End file.
